The Glass Vase

The delicate glass is in
my hands.
Suddenly
I hear the door slam. I drop the vase.
I did not

realize how much
power
was in my hands.
I
lean down to pick
up
the cluttered pieces
of glass on
the
ground.
I feel sadness rushing through
my

veins.
I did not

know how much power
I
held
in my hands.

by Amanda, 3rd Grade

[photo by iz’source via flickr]